I live in Europe, but I work as a contractor for a client in America.

Client: “I have been reviewing your hours, and you working in your evening time is unacceptable.”

Me: “We discussed that shifting my hours to the evening would make it so that more of my hours would overlap with your hours.”

Client: “I just don’t see how you could do your best work in the evening.”

Me: “Well, what hours would work best for you?”

Client: “You need to work core business hours for your timezone. Early mornings are necessary for system upgrades and maintenance. You also need to be available to take calls from me and other clients in the afternoons and evenings, and possibly at night. There are also a few holes in the weekend and afternoon schedule that could use your attention.”

Me: “You just asked me to work twenty-four-seven.”

Client: “And?”

I see a young teen girl having some trouble in our feminine hygiene section. I decide she’s been there long enough that it won’t be an intrusion if I offer her some help.

Teen Girl: “Please! I don’t really have anyone to ask about this kind of stuff.”

The girl looks to be in physical discomfort.

Me: “Cramps? Pain?”

Teen Girl: “Just the normal period pain. Takes a while to get used to it.”

I’m about to offer my sympathies and advice when a male customer one aisle over (our aisles are short and we can see over them) decides this is the perfect time to insert himself into our conversation.

Male Customer: “Yeah, period pains sound bad and all, but that’s nothing compared to the pain of being kicked in the balls. Now that’s real pain a woman could never understand.”

Me: “We’d never understand it because period pain isn’t optional, whereas you getting kicked in the balls is probably because you were being an a**.”

Male Customer: “I was just trying to reassure you ladies that you could have it worse.”

Teen Girl: *Menacingly* “Now I know why you get kicked in the balls so much.”

Male Customer: *Backing off* “Just trying to help, jeez!”

He leaves, and I turn back to my customer.

Me: “Sorry about that.”

Teen Girl: “Oh, that’s fine. I’m just surprised that a conversation could be more painful than whatever is going on down there…”

I am serving a customer when another customer hurries over to me after looking at the educational posters we have for sale.

Interrupting Customer: “I have to say, I’m impressed that you’ve got both the globe earth and also a flat earth represented. It’s nice to finally see a store catering to original Christians these days.”

Me: “Sir, those aren’t flat earths; they’re just maps.”

Interrupting Customer: “It is a representation of the earth, correctly as flat, just like it says in the Bible!”

Original Customer: “I don’t think the Bible says the earth is flat.”

Interrupting Customer: “Well, it doesn’t say it’s a globe, either!”

Original Customer: “It’s also got talking snakes and angels made of rings with eyes, but you do you…”

Interrupting Customer: “I feel sorry for you people trapped in the globe cult.” *Wanders off*

Original Customer: “Please tell me he’s not a regular.”

Me: “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

Original Customer: “You poor… poor, man.”

An adult woman and her elderly mother are browsing some books. The woman picks up a sci-fi novel.

Mother: “Why do you even bother with those?! They’re so unrealistic!”

Woman: “And yet I see you’ve grabbed yet another romance novel. The last one had the protagonist get trapped in her snowed-in hometown and then fall in love with her childhood friend, who she hated, who turns out to be a billionaire and a prince, correct?”

Mother: “Hmph! Still more realistic than your fantasy mumbo-jumbo!”

Me: “Didn’t the billionaire in the book before that one also turn out to be a werewolf with a medical degree?”

She shut up.

CONTENT WARNING: Violence (Threats, Suggestion Of Sexual Assault)

It is currently hot as balls in our state, so even with the AC on, we are all very uncomfortable at the checkout lane near the constantly opening doors. Since we’re a small store and don’t have a set uniform (we can wear any top as long as it’s black), I am currently wearing a sleeveless top.

An older man in my checkout lane seems to not be too impressed that I — a young woman — wish to be comfortable for my own benefit.

Customer: “Typical. All you girls say you don’t want any of this attention, but I see you go out wearing all these tiny and tight outfits, showing off as much skin as possible.”

Me: “Sir, it may be hard for you to believe, but I wear what I wear for my benefit, not yours.”

Customer: “Always the same defense, but the truth is that you have a choice to dress revealingly or not, and every time you choose to, you’re asking for it. You girls really are asking for it.”

Me: “Excuse me, sir, do you want me to hold your items while you run back to our auto section to get a bike helmet or some protective headgear?”

Customer: “What are you talking about?! I don’t need one of those!”

Me: “Oh, I just assumed since you’re not wearing protective headgear, you’re basically asking me to smash your head in with a hammer? I mean, you’re not wearing one, so you must be asking for it, right?”

Customer: “That’s… that’s…”

Me: *To my coworker in the next aisle* “Hey, do you have a hammer I could borrow? I promise to be real quick.”

Customer: “That is not what I meant, and you—”

Me: *Fake speaking into my walkie-talkie* “Security to checkout, security to checkout. Oh… and bring a hammer.”

Customer: “Dumb f****** sl*t!”

He stormed off, leaving behind his shopping.